Page 17 of Retaliation

Gunnar scowled, yanked his phone from his pocket, and retreated to a darkened corner, his attention fixed on the screen—or at least pretending to be.

Poison took a drag of her cigarette, savoring the bite of smoke before setting it in the ashtray. She grabbed the abandoned cue and handed it to Scorpion, who put his own cigarette out and hopped off the barstool to meet her. He took the cue from her, fingers brushing over hers, sending a pulse of heat through her hand. Her breath hitched, but she kept her cool, offering him a faint, playful smile.

“Winner breaks,” he said, his voice laced with a challenge as his lips curved. His gaze held hers for a heartbeat, dark and intense.

The contact left a spark buzzing in her fingers, an almost magnetic pull she couldn’t shake. She turned, forcing herself to focus as she crouched by the table, collecting the billiard balls to rack them. She was so intent on the cool weight of the spheres in her hands, the familiar rhythm of setting up, that she barely noticed when Scorpion shrugged off his jacket on the other side of the table.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she glanced up, heart skipping. His forearms—exposed now as he rolled up his sleeves—were a sight she didn’t mind getting lost in. Veins traced over muscle, tattoo ink winding like secret paths, and her mouth went dry as she watched. His strength was the quiet kind, restrained, like a beast held just beneath the surface, and her gaze lingered longer than she intended.

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her. Startled, she looked to see Gunnar crouched at her side, his eyes narrowed, his face inches from hers, a smirk tugging at his lips. She hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t felt him move in close. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but she held his gaze steady, refusing to be the one to back down first.

“You’re drooling,” Gunnar whispered, his breath hot against her ear. A chill slithered down her spine, leaving a trail of unease that made her stomach twist.

“Fuck off,” she hissed, voice dripping with disdain as she tried to shake the unsettling feeling of his presence. “Go be a creep somewhere else.”

Gunnar’s lips curled into a taunting smirk. “I’m not the one eye-fucking someone in public.” His gaze held a twisted satisfaction before he straightened, strolling over to an oblivious Scorpion like he hadn’t just rattled her to the core.

“We need to leave,” Gunnar said, jerking his head toward Dennis.

Scorpion’s eyes flicked to her, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. “I’ll just make sure Poison gets home safely, then I’ll catch up with you guys.”

At the sound of her name, she straightened, fingers tightening around the cue. She instantly wondered what was going on as the hairs on her arms stood on end, and her mind raced to piece together their cryptic exchange.

“No.” Gunnar’s tone was a sharp cut, final. “Boss just wants us. You have your assignment.” His words hung in the air, heavy, laced with something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“You sure?” For a split second, she saw a flicker of doubt in Scorpion’s eyes—a rare thing, and somehow, it unsettled her more than Gunnar’s presence.

“Yeah. We’ll report tonight…” Gunnar’s gaze slid to her, then he lowered his voice, murmuring, “At our spot.”

She forced her attention back to the table, fingers moving mechanically as she pretended to arrange the billiards.Feign ignorance,she told herself, repeating it like a mantra, grounding herself in the rhythm of her actions. But her mind remained sharp, alert, watching them from the corner of her eye, every nerve on edge.

Something was happening, something she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Just finish your job and get it over with,” Gunnar muttered, his tone a harsh, biting whisper, his gaze cold.

The sharpness in his voice scraped against her nerves, but she forced herself to remain calm, her expression casual as she focused on the task in front of her. Whatever was going on, she couldn’t let him see even a flicker of unease.

As Scorpion and Gunnar continued talking in low tones, her mind churned, trying to unravel the implications.What assignment?she wondered, piecing together their cryptic words, the strange tension that lingered in the air like a warning.

“Well,” Gunnar said louder, snapping her attention back. She met his gaze with a sweet, disarming smile, hoping it masked the curiosity simmering beneath. “We’ll leave you two alone. Come on, Den, Boss needs us.”

Dennis patted Scorpion’s shoulder in silent farewell, and with a nod, they slipped out, leaving her alone with Scorpion. The bar felt quieter, a comfortable silence settling between them as the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

“You don’t have to join them?” she asked, feigning innocence, her tone light, as if she hadn’t caught a single detail of their exchange.

“Luckily, no.” He smiled, his gaze lingering on her. “You get to hang with me for a bit longer.”

She couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at her lips. “Cocky, much?” she teased, reaching for her cigarette and taking a long drag, letting the smoke ease her nerves.

“Not nearly as cocky as you, kicking Gun’s ass.” He laughed, the sound low and warm, curling through her like a slow burn.

“Something tells me he doesn’t lose often,” she replied, leaning back slightly as she gauged his reaction. “Didn’t seem like he took it too well.”

A gut feeling tugged at her, whispering that Gunnar wasn’t to be trusted. She’d learned long ago to listen to those instincts—they rarely steered her wrong. Something about him set her on edge, a dodgy quality she couldn’t quite pin down. But one way or another, she intended to figure him out.

“No,” Scorpion laughed, the sound rich and genuine.

“He’s definitely not. Hell, he can even give me a run for my territory.”

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